


The Toughest F'ing Ninja

by Foggy16



Series: How Brian met Danny [1]
Category: Game Grumps, NSP - Fandom, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: Assassin Brian - Freeform, Assassin Danny, Band Origins AU, How they met AU, In NSP Universe, M/M, Ninja Danny, Non-Graphic Violence, eventual M/M pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foggy16/pseuds/Foggy16
Summary: Brian has an assignment:  Kill the world's toughest assassin or die trying.Daniel has one last job and he's done being that assassin.  Why did Brian have to get in his way?





	1. The assignment

**Author's Note:**

> This is just my own personal take on how Brian and Danny met. I hope you enjoy it.

Brian

My target is known only as Daniel. Of course he has a last name, but it's been said that only the ones he kills know it. It's the last thing they hear before he takes their lives. A parting gift, as it were. He's the deadliest assassin in the world and he has a contract on my employer. My job is to get to him first, or die trying. If anyone can take take down this mysterious Daniel, I can. He's fast, deadly and very accurate, but he does have a weakness, so I've heard. He likes his down time a little too much recently. My source tells me that a man matching his description has been seen in nightclubs, seeming to have no cares in the world. He dances with any woman who happens to catch his eye, and more often than not goes home with them. A sloppy assassin, especially one of his caliber, is a godsend in my line of work. 

I've been given his photo by someone I can trust, though looking at it it's hard to see any sort of deadly sword for hire in those soft brown eyes, to say nothing of the warm smile. This was not the man I'd imagined when I was told to kill him quickly, before he knew you were there. If he sees you, you're already dead. 

Following another lead, I'm in a rather well lit bar, watching the man in the photo. I look at the picture, then at the actual person, who is currently talking with an attractive woman, laughing at something she's said, and wondering if there hasn't been some sort of mistake. His hair is certainly more wild than it is in the picture, making him look even less lethal, and his smile is sincere. He's clearly having a good time and the last thing on his mind is my employer. At least, I think that until his eyes meet mine and harden. Imperceptibly to most people, but I've been trained to recognize that look. His smile doesn't fade, and his eyes leave mine as he turns back to his companion, smoothing her blonde hair away from her cheek. He says something that even my keen ears can't catch, kisses her cheek, and meets my stare again. The meaning is clear to both of us. “Get your things and come outside so we can settle this.” It's a challenge that no self respecting assassin can turn down. I pay for my drink, stand up, and move towards the back fire exit. I'd already disabled the alarm and fully intended to leave through it before the night was finished anyway. 

I walk to the back alley, pulling my mask over my face as I go. I'm well aware of the fact that under the mask I look more like a nerdy science teacher than a hardened murderer, and that's something I use to my advantage as well. After all, the goal of a ninja is to blend in with the crowd. I seldom call myself a ninja anymore, it's an outdated, juvenile term, but at the end of the day that is what I am. I'm quick, agile and and my kills are painless. “Dead before they hit the ground” is my moto, and it's proven to be an accurate one. 

I have my sword out, however Daniel is nowhere to be seen. I'm about to leave the alley when an unexpectedly soft, kind voice comes from behind and above me. “William Long hired you, I'm guessing. He was going to be my last target before I hung this all up for good.” He sounds almost regretful, if I'm not mistaken. I can barely hear him sigh as he moves, though I'm not sure where he is. Uncertainty is deadly in this business, I know better than anyone. “I didn't want to take any lives I didn't have to, but you just had to step in where you didn't belong, didn't you? Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine. It's only fair that we face each other like men. No hiding behind aliases or half truths.” 

His voice is level with my ears now, but he's still nowhere to be seen. I feel beads of perspiration on my forehead and down my back. This is all very new to me. I'm the one with the upper hand in most cases. “Brian”, I answer, feeling that he's right. If we are going to kill each other we might as well know our names. “Just Brian. If I have another one I've long since forgotten it.”

“Okay then, Just Brian, I'm Daniel, but you know that or you wouldn't even be here. My full name is Daniel Sexbang, and it's the last name you'll ever hear.” My head is pulled back and I feel a sharp pain in my throat. The last thing I’m fully aware of is a man lowering me to the ground in a gentle, almost tender way. I could be hallucinating, but he seems to have tears in his eyes. Then my world is black. 

Daniel

I'm sick of my life. I used to get a thrill out of seeing the life drain from the eyes of the person I'd contracted to kill. I never asked questions, never fought with my conscience about whether or not they deserved to die, I didn't care. I wasn't the judge or jury, I was the executioner. And I was the best the world had ever seen. I say was because I'm done. After this last job I'm going to fade away, like I'd never even existed. No one knows who I am really. I take only cash payments and I meet my clients in broad daylight by way of a go between. Although the go between is really just me dressed in street clothes, using an alias. No one would ever think that the tall, gangling man with the goofy smile and the soft voice could ever be a lethal weapon. 

No one, that is until I happened to let my guard down and someone got a picture of me. How they figured it out I didn't ask. I killed them without any question, save one: who else knows what I look like? According to him he's only given the picture to one other person, and that's the man who is going to die tonight. I'm inclined to believe him. Loss of fingernails tends to loosen tongues.

I know him as soon as I see him too. Average height, average build, but the iciest blue eyes I've ever seen staring back at me. Damn it, and I was going to go home with this girl, too. She is definitely into me. Work comes first, I suppose. “Will you excuse me… Amanda…?” I push back a few strands of silky blonde hair from her face.

Her smile fades and she gives me the “you’re a fucking idiot” look that I’ve gotten so used to from so many other women. “Ashlynne.”

“What?” I glance over to see him move towards the fire exit, which was exactly what I’d been expecting. Planning on, even. I have a route right above the street where I can watch his every move without detection.

“My name’s Ashlynne.”

“Oh yes, of course. Such a lovely and fitting name. I’m sure we’ll see each other again in your dreams…” Fuck, it’s already slipping my mind. “Ashley.” I kiss her cheek quickly and leave, my primary focus on that would be assassin now.

I’d already scoped this place out and there’s a small balcony outside of a now unused room. It oversees the alley, but in the dark no one, no matter how well trained they are, can see it. It’s the perfect place to get the literal and figurative drop on my opponent. His body language screams that he’s tense, even as he tries to seem fluid and relaxed. He has no idea where I am, which is as it should be. Although, even now a voice in my head is telling me that he’s not my target, and I can walk away right now. But he’s seen me, possibly heard my voice, and he’s not having a change of heart, like I am. He’s out for blood. My blood, to be specific. I move to jump from the balcony without a sound, my eyes fixed on him, and tell him that I know who sent him and why. We exchange names and I feel another pang as he tells me that he only has one name, Brian. He was either born or kidnapped into this life at a very young age, and it’s all he knows. But that can’t be helped. 

As I walk up behind him slowly, throwing my voice much like a trained ventriloquist, I remove a knife from the sleeve of my jacket. “Okay then, Just Brian, I'm Daniel, but you know that or you wouldn't even be here. My full name is Daniel Sexbang, and it's the last name you'll ever hear.” He’s moving towards where he believes me to be, and I grab his forehead, pulling his head back, and plunge my knife into his neck, though something stops me from going all the way to his jugular. There’s a lot of blood, of course, and I have no doubt that I’ve severely damaged, if not severed his vocal cords, but I’ve stopped myself from killing him outright. God help me, I don’t want to do this anymore. I look into those blurry, fading eyes, my own eyes filling with tears as his slip closed.

If I act fast I might be able to save him. I take off my jacket and wrap it around his neck, then gather him into my arms. He’s solid, but I’m far stronger than I look. My tiny, studio apartment is close, and he’s not going to die. Not by my hands. Not if I can help it.


	2. The Aftermath

Brian

I have no idea where I am, how long I’ve been here, or who is currently washing my face. All I know is that my whole body feels as if it’s on fire and my neck as though it’s been sawed in half. Which it has been, looking back. Daniel Sexbang, he said his name was. I’m not supposed to know this, though. I’m supposed to be dead. How… were we somehow interrupted, and I’m now in a hospital? No, this doesn’t feel like any hospital I’ve ever been in. The room is warm, almost too warm, really, and to my knowledge no nurse has ever simply sat by a patient’s bed and cooled their fever with a cloth before. I have to use all of my limited strength to force my eyes open and see where I am. The ceiling is popcorn texture, but that’s all I can see. I can’t turn my head, either. The pain is absolutely unbearable. I try to cry out, but there’s something wrong. My voice. I can’t… I have no voice. In a heartbeat all my training goes out the window and I try to talk, to scream, to make any sound at all. But nothing happens. And quickly as it came, the fight leaves my exhausted, pain filled body, but the terror is still there.

“Hey, hey…” The voice that belongs to the soothing, cool hand resting against my hot forehead is familiar, in an unpleasant way. “Stop that, you’ll pop your stitches.” The fuck? Him! I know that voice now, even though I can’t open my eyes again. “You’ve had a bad infection for over a week now. I didn’t think you were going to make it.” Why does he care? How… why am I not dead? As if reading my thoughts, he goes on, folding the towel he’d been washing my face with and resting it on my forehead. “William Long was going to be my final kill and I hadn’t wanted to take that job. However I’d had a long standing agreement with the person who hired me or I wouldn't have gone through with it. As it is, you got in my way. I couldn’t have that, and yes, I was going to kill you. But I couldn’t bring myself to finish you off. I am very sorry about injuring you so badly.” There’s a very slight tremor in his voice and he sounds sincere enough. Still, I think I’d like more than an “I’m sorry for destroying your voice”. I suppose it’s wrong to complain though. I’m still alive, which is more than anyone can say for any of his other victims. 

Though what he’s going to do with me after I’m on my feet again I can’t guess. That’s a bridge we’ll cross when we come to it, I suppose. Right now I’m so tired, even though I’m not sure how I possibly can be if I’ve really been sleeping for over a week. Again he seems to read my thoughts. Really, it’s nice not having to talk in order to be understood. I’ve always been a man of few words anyway. “You’ll stay here until you’ve fully recovered, then we’ll figure out where to go from there. If you still want to kill me, I’ll have to ask you to leave. If not, it won’t be as pressing. I have a fold out sofa bed and don’t mind sleeping on that for a little bit longer. Either way, you’re in no shape to choose right now.” 

The cloth is removed from my forehead, dipped in water and replaced. He’s surprisingly good at all of this. I feel myself drifting off once more, my body relaxing again. “Where did he find someone to administer an IV?” I think to myself as I feel something warm rush up a vein in my arm. Before I can figure it out I'm dozing off. His apartment is very warm and pleasant. More pleasant than the company I'm in, but I can't really complain right now.

Danny

As soon as I have Just Brian in my apartment I'm undressing him and getting him onto my bed. The bleeding has slowed and the blood is thicker now. If it can stop he might live. I’ve already called one of my contacts, a doctor I pay to be on call whenever I'm sick or need to be patched up, and told him in as few words as possible what happened and why I need him. He's already at my place and within minutes he’s stitching up my guest. “I can't say for sure that he'll live through the night, and even if he does he'll never talk again.” 

He's giving me a sharp look, but I know for a fact that I've paid him enough to keep quiet. To be sure of this, though, I slip him three extra bills. “Do whatever you need to do to make sure he lives. I… I need him to live.” And I'm pushed into my little shoebox kitchen while he sets up an IV out of nowhere and fixes him as well as he can, leaving medicine and instructions with me. He can't come again unless Brian is dying or dead.

It seems like an age passes in those ten days he's unconscious. He spikes a dangerously high fever and it doesn't go down. I know better than to call my doctor friend again for a man who should be dead. Would be dead if I hadn't had a change of heart. So I look after him, doing everything I can to help him pull through. Finally I see those bright blue eyes struggle open and watch as he tries to fight against his severed vocal cords. I wash his face and talk to him, touching his hot forehead with my bare hand. If I'm honest with myself, I've come to care about Brian a good deal. Maybe more than I care about myself. Watching him fight against a life threatening injury, infection, and immobility has given me a sense of purpose with him and I'm not going to lose that. After calming him down somewhat and explaining to him what happened and what I've done to him, I watch the subtle changes in his expression, forming my answers to what I think he wants to know. Then I say something that shocks even me. I tell him that as long as he doesn't try to kill me he can stay here. Not only that, but I mean it. I've gotten used to him being here over these last ten days and I feel that he's my responsibility now. As long as he wants, he is welcome here. “We'll have to find a bigger place though. That sofa sleeper is too short and my feet hang over the edge. But yeah, we can make this work.” I take the cloth from his forehead and turn it over to the cool side, then settle back against the chair next to the bed and hug my knees. “What do you think? Can you live with me, Ninja Brian?” Those eyes open again and meet mine, the expression in them much clearer now. It could be my imagination, but I swear they are sparkling. “Awesome. I'm Danny, by the way. Danny Sexbang.”


End file.
